Seven
by wolfraven80
Summary: SethxEirika Modern day AU A collection of linked short stories based on seven prompts. "Seth always wears a suit: black, navy or charcoal, but always a suit and tie. In all the years I’ve known him, I’ve rarely seen him in anything else..."
1. Uniform

**A/N:** I apologise for the long foreword, but I wanted to explain a couple of things:

1) I originally wrote this series of short pieces for the 7snogs ("snog" means "kiss" for those unfamiliar with British slang) prompt community on LiveJournal. The seven prompts are: Uniform, Jealousy, Embrace, Sunset, Rumour, Argument, and Milk. In addition to using the prompt, each story must contain or mention a kiss in some form.

2) I've had an idea for a long time for a modern-day AU Seth/Eirika story. I thought it would be fun try see how well I could parallel elements of TSS and its character dynamics in a modern setting. I imagined the story would take the form of a series of linked short stories. This collection became a sort of dry run to see whether it would be feasible and interesting. These are far more scattered in terms of time frame, covering about seven years from first to last. I still don't know if I'll ever write the longer one, but I thought these shorter ones were amusing and so I'll post them one by one in case anyone else should happen to find them amusing as well.

* * *

**Uniform**

Seth always wears a suit: black, navy or charcoal, but always a suit and tie. In all the years I've known him, I've rarely seen him in anything else. It's his uniform– his armour, I sometimes think. And it has been since he turned in his policeman's uniform and came to work security for Renais Enterprises like his father had. His father had been our head of security... until he was killed protecting my dad. I was twelve when it happened; Seth was twenty.

So Seth turned in his badge for a suit and took on the role of protector of my family. Sometimes he has regular office duties, but when he works as a bodyguard he puts on his sunglasses and his expression changes. It becomes cold and impassive so that you'd never guess how truly kind he is. When he's working, his gentleness is replaced by a stony ferocity. At the office, he leaves off the sunglasses and his features relax, but always the suit seems a sort of barrier. I think I was seventeen the first time I saw him in anything else.

It was Friday night and I was wandering our office building looking for Ephraim. It was only out of sheer desperation that I checked the company gym. Ephraim had taken to working out when he'd turned sixteen (to impress girls, I'm almost certain), but I'd never done more than walk past a gym, even the one in our building.

For a moment I remained frozen in the doorway. It was long past closing and the offices were nearly deserted. The gym was no exception, at least at first glance. I was about to turn and leave without bothering to walk past the myriad odd-looking exercise contraptions, when I heard something from within. I took a tentative step into the gym. My footfalls were painfully loud on the hardwood floor. The rows of exercise machines called to mind nothing less than a torture chamber– though perhaps a bit shinier and less damp and dreary.

"Ephraim?" But no sooner had I called out than I spotted the source of the sound.

Seth was seated at one of the exercise machines– something for his arms– and I couldn't help but stop and stare. Instead of the suit I was so used to seeing him in, he was wearing a grey tank top and a pair of navy shorts. I could see the muscles in his upper arms and forearms flexing. There were beads of sweat on his brow and trickling down his neck.

He stopped as he noticed me there. "Miss King?"

Suddenly too abashed to meet his eyes, my gaze flitted downwards– only to be met with a glimpse of his thighs, which weren't quite covered by his shorts when he sat. I could feel my face flushing at the sight of this sudden expanse of skin. The only safe thing seemed to be to look at his face.

Seth's brow was crinkled. "Is there anything wrong, Miss King?"

"No. I– I'm just looking for Ephraim."

"I haven't seen him. Have you tried paging him?"

I held up Ephraim's cell phone and pager, which I'd been carrying around for the past twenty minutes. "He left them in my office," I explained. "I'm certain he hasn't gone home yet, though, but I can't find him anywhere."

"Do you want me to help you look? I can change and–"

"No," I cut in. It was so like him to offer, but even though a part of me relished the thought of having an excuse to be in his company, I hated the idea of imposing on him when he wasn't working. He already went beyond what was required of him according to his job description. He'd always been like that, just like his dad. "No, it's fine. You're off-duty, right?"

"Even so..."

I smiled. He was so dear that way. "Don't worry. I'm sure I'll find him eventually."

"If I may ask, Miss King, why are you here so late? I wasn't aware your father was such a slave-driver."

I couldn't help but laugh. He delivered the line deadpan, but I could see the slight twitch of his lips as he did. People said he was so serious, humourless even, but I knew better. "Tana's coming in for the weekend but her flight got delayed so we decided to hang around here for a while."

"She didn't take the private jet?"

"Her dad was using it," I said vaguely, checking my watch for the time. He chuckled and I titled my head to look at him. "Is that funny?"

"I'm sorry, Miss King." But he was almost smiling– it was so obvious. How could other people not see this when they looked at him?

"It's because I'm being blasé about a personal jet, isn't it?"

He shrugged. "I've worked here for years and yet... It's difficult for someone like me to imagine having an airplane at my disposal."

"Oh. Well, yes..." I checked my watch again just to have an excuse not to look at him. Wealth was something I'd grown up with and I hated to think I was stuck-up about it, or worse, that Seth thought me so. "Why are _you_ here so late?" I asked to change the subject.

"Natasha's working a late shift at the hospital."

I felt a twinge of jealously when he spoke of her, his girlfriend. Even then I knew it was silly. I was a high school student with a summer job in her dad's company, too young to even walk into a bar or to vote. Seth though... he was an adult by all standards. He had a real job and a girlfriend. And they probably... They must be... It rankled me to think of it. But in the end, he was twenty-five and I was seventeen and still not much more than a child in his eyes.

"I thought I'd get some things done here before heading home," he continued. The thought of him alone in his empty apartment weighed on me. I always had friends or family around if I wanted company.

"So... you're going to be all alone?"

This earned a chuckle. "I think of it as having a quiet evening to myself."

"Do you come here often?" I suppressed a groan at the way it had come out, like a cheesy pickup line. "To the gym I mean..."

"A few times a week after work," he replied. "I also run every morning."

"Oh wow," I blurted and instantly wanted to kick myself. I'd met his girlfriend. Natasha had poise; I had "oh wow."

Seth shrugged. "I wouldn't be of much use as a bodyguard if I weren't in shape." His humility only made him dearer to me. It seemed profoundly unfair that I should be so much younger, that I should be such a child compared to him. I didn't feel like a child save when abashment got the better of me. And the way I felt when I looked at him, there was nothing child-like about that.

"I guess I should get going then," I said finally. "I'll leave you to finish your workout."

"I was just about done anyway," he said, as he got to his feet. "Are you sure you don't need anything?"

_Aside from you?_ I chided myself for the thought, once more keenly aware of the wealth of exposed skin on display by his outfit. I was so used to his suits, to the way they disguised the lines of his body, and to the way they seemed to conceal his smiles as well.

"No, I'm fine," I said. And then, amazed at my own daring, I kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you for offering, though."

"It's my pleasure, Miss King," he replied, quite unaffected by my affection. It was to his credit really, but rather frustrating for me. "I suppose I'll hit the showers then. Goodnight, Miss King."

"Goodnight," I squeaked, for the image of Seth showering had taken hold of my mind and I felt embarrassingly tingly all over. As I watched him disappear into the men's change room I couldn't help but think that perhaps I ought to start working out now and then. If Seth were here the exercise equipment might not look quite so intimidating... and I'd get to see him out of uniform...

To this day I credit Seth for the excellent exercise regime I began in my teens.


	2. Argument

**Argument**

In retrospect, it really was all Barbara Streisand's fault.

Ephraim and I were setting up the family tree in the Manchester cottage we always retreated to for the holidays when the radio began playing Barbara Streisand's "Blame It on the Mistletoe."

"I hate mistletoe," I muttered as I pulled a package of glittering ornaments out of a box and began scrounging around for the hooks we'd need to affix them to the tree.

Ephraim paused, a string of Christmas lights, half wrapped around the tree, in his hand. "Since when?"

It was the day before Christmas Eve. The scent of fresh pine was wafting through the room; our cook, whom I could hear bustling about in the kitchen, was making some sort of delectable Christmas treat; snowflakes were tumbling picturesquely outside the window, and somehow all I could think about was that Seth wouldn't be with us this year. Instead, he'd be in some ski lodge somewhere with his girlfriend... doing unseemly things in front of the fireplace no doubt.

I shrugged. "Since always, I guess." I was at my wit's end trying to find the hooks, knowing full well we had some because we'd ordered five new packages last year after not being able to find the ones from the year before; we'd hoped not to repeat the debacle.

"Hmm..."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I snapped, cursing under my breath as I cut the tip of my finger on a shattered Christmas bulb buried at the bottom of the box.

"Nothing."

I left off looking for the hooks and instead walked across the room to get a Kleenex to press against the cut. "Oh just spit it out, Ephraim."

"Well... the only reason I can imagine for you to hate mistletoe– a perfectly lovely bit of Christmas paraphernalia, I might add– is that you're jealous."

"Of a plant?" He'd just about finished getting the lights on the tree and, as he turned, I saw a smirk on his face.

"No, and correct me if I'm wrong, dear sister, but you've never actually been kissed– by a non-relative I mean– under the mistletoe or otherwise, have you?" I managed to fling the Kleenex box at him, but he ducked away and it landed harmlessly on one of the stuffed chairs instead. "I'm right, aren't I?" I was eighteen and nine months away from starting college and my brother was perfectly right– which did nothing but make it more annoying.

"Well unlike you," I hissed, "I can't just go picking up a different girl every other night at a sleazy club."

He sniffed. "I'm glad to hear that. I'm hoping to have nieces and nephews some day, you know."

There was nothing close at hand to fling this time. "That's not what I meant." I wasn't unaware of the shrillness of my voice; I was genuinely irritated, but once Ephraim started on something he just couldn't let it lie.

"And I'll have you know the clubs I go to are quite chic. You don't think Seth would really let me go someplace that wasn't on the level, do you?"

I bit my lip to keep from saying anything truly rude. Ever since we'd turned eighteen it had been Seth instead of Forde or Kyle who'd been assigned as Ephraim's bodyguard when he went out on the town. I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at my brother, Christmas decorations all but forgotten. It irked me to think what they did when they went out– well I had a good idea what Ephraim got up to, but that Seth accompanied him on these... escapades...

"Oh come on, Eirika," he said, with the cajoling smile the photographers loved so much. He'd smiled like that the last time he'd been featured in People magazine. I rolled my eyes. Ephraim's charm had worn off on me at age four. "You're not really mad, are you? It's stupid to argue about this."

"I'm going out," I said and marched towards the vestibule.

"You know the only reason Seth got assigned to me is that dad knows he's too proper to get into any trouble himself."

My hand froze in mid-air, halfway to my winter coat.

"It's true," said Ephraim consolingly. "He spends the whole night standing around like a coat rack, keeping an eye out for any troublemakers. You know, you should just–"

What my dear brother thought I should do, I didn't get the chance to find out for just then the door burst open and I turned to see a trio of bundled up figures on our doorstep. "Oh. I'm sorry, Mr. King," Kyle said as he spotted us. "We were told you wouldn't be arriving until tonight so we let ourselves in." We usually had a number of our staffers join us for Christmas, the ones like Kyle, Forde, and Seth, who didn't have much family of their own, but, over the years, had become quasi-family to us.

"It's all right, Kyle," said Ephraim. "We came early. Dad won't make it till tomorrow, though. And you know you're not supposed to call me 'Mr. King' when you're not on duty." Kyle stepped in and Forde and his younger brother Franz followed.

I was about to shut the door behind them when I spotted another figure in the driveway. "Seth!" I called out, feeling my irritation melt away at the sight of him. His cheeks were ruddy with the cold and there were snowflakes in his russet hair. I felt rather like a melting snowflake myself when he smiled at me.

He joined us in the vestibule, which was now crowded with half our company security personnel. "I thought you wouldn't be here this year," I said tentatively as I watched him strip off his coat and hang it up.

"There was a..." He paused to clear his throat."Change in plans. I hope you don't mind if I impose on you."

"You're always welcome here, Seth," Ephraim said earnestly. "You're family, you know. The whole lot of you!" he added and proceeded to lead everyone to the kitchen to get some fresh-brewed coffee for the new arrivals.

We were all settled in the livingroom when Ehpraim went ahead and asked, "So what happened to Nathasha?"

I was blushing on his behalf. Honestly my brother's lack of tact sometimes... And to think he was supposed to someday be at the head of a boardroom!

Seth, who'd been hovering in the corner, glancing at boxes of Christmas decorations, looked startled. He cleared his throat. "We aren't seeing each other anymore."

Giddiness, quickly followed by guilt, swept through me.

"What happened?" Ephraim pressed, heedless of Seth's discomfort. But I could see the way his whole body tensed. Seth hated talking about his private life; he always had.

"She was offered a position at the University of California, San Francisco Medical Center. It was the position she's always wanted."

"When was this?"

"She started there two weeks ago."

"Ah. I'm sorry to hear that." I was glad it was Ephraim who said so; I didn't feel able to say it myself. Even if it was selfish, I was happy that Seth would be here with us for Christmas... instead of in front of a crackling fire with her.

**ooo**

Christmas day was bustling with laughter and familiar faces– just how we liked it. The tradition had started when Ephraim and I were very young, after our mom died. Holidays were too quiet without her so my dad, I think, had tried to fill the void with friends since we lacked family.

The decorations had been put up after all, my tiff with Ephraim soon forgotten once the boys and Seth had arrived. There was Christmas music, eggnog (with a smidgen of brandy perhaps), and shortbread cookies. Even Seth, who'd looked a little dour when he thought no one was looking his way, cracked a smile. Ephraim and I took on the role of humble hosts and benefactors handing out gifts and embarrassing our security personnel with our generosity; that, too, was a tradition, one dad had begun with his traditionally overlarge Christmas bonuses for those who kept us safe year-round.

Ephraim and Forde were poring over Franz's new laptop, dad was showing Kyle the new features on the latest Blackberry model, and Seth was hovering a few paces behind the couch, leaning against the doorframe, when the trill of a cell phone cut through the Christmas cheer. It was dad's, the one he used for private matters; he'd turned off his office phone for the day.

"Vigarde! Merry Christmas! How's Tuscany? Is Lyon feeling any better?" We'd often shared our Chrismas dinners with our friends from Grado Ltd., but Lyon hadn't been well of late and his dad had thought maybe a vacation in Italy would help perk him up. "Oh. I'm sorry to hear that. Send him our love, will you?" He paused for several moments and then, "We really shouldn't talk business today. It's Chris– Well if you're sure it'll only be ten minutes..." He glanced our way and Ephraim rolled his eyes and shooed him towards his office.

I took the opportunity to join Seth; standing against the doorframe the way he was, it seemed as if he wasn't quite sure he should be here. I wished that he could just be comfortable, that he could feel like family.

He smiled as he saw me and my pulse quickened.

"I got you something," I said, reaching into my pocket and producing a small package wrapped in bright red paper. "I was going to wait until I saw you back at the office, but since you're here..." It was so typical of him to look surprised. Every year he received a present and every year he seemed not to expect it. I wanted so much to throw my arms around his neck and tell him that he was more to us than just an employee, that he was more to _me_...

"I– Thank you, Miss K–"

"Ah!" I cut in.

"Thank you, Eirika," he amended and proceeded to meticulously unwrap the package, whereas my brother or Forde, for instance, would have simply shredded the wrapping in seconds. Setting the wrapping paper aside, he hesitated a moment before opening the black velveteen box. I watched his eyes widen as he did finally open it. A pair of cufflinks, each with a cut sapphire ringed with yellow and white gold: I'd picked them out just for him.

"I thought you could use a new pair for all those parties you have to dress up for at work." Seth was nearly always in attendance as a member of security when my father held formal events and even security had to sport a suit or, on occasion, a tuxedo. "You'll be the most dashing bodyguard in the company with these."

He looked almost pained. "How much did you–"

"Oh don't worry," I said patting his arm. I was heir to a fiber-optic company; it was adorable that he worried about my finances. "It's nothing I can't afford."

He raised an eyebrow. "You can afford a small country."

"Not until I turn twenty-one and get my trust fund," I said with a wink.

I spun on my heel as a piercing whistle startled me. I was more than a little distressed to find the boys and my brother all staring in our direction. "You two," Forde announced, "are in contravention of Christmas tradition."

"Forde, what are you..." I trailed off as I saw my brother pointing at something above me, his eyebrows raised and a not very well concealed smile tugging at his lips. I followed the direction of his gaze to find a sprig of mistletoe hanging in the doorway above our heads. I could feel the blood running into my cheeks immediately. When had that gotten there? I certainly hadn't hung it up.

"_Well_," Forde drawled. "What are you waiting for? And none of that kiss on the cheek stuff either."

Seth looked quite stricken and I wanted to strangle my brother's bodyguard for embarrassing him when he was already uncomfortable to begin with. "Honestly, Seth," Ephraim said archly when neither one of us moved, "you don't have to look so horrified. I mean what's so wrong with my sister?"

"This is ridiculous," I said. "He doesn't have to if he doesn't want t–" But then all at once Seth was leaning towards me, his fingers tilting my face up toward his, and before I was quite certain what was happening he'd pressed his lips against mine.

Even years later I could never say for sure how long we stayed like that– it couldn't have been more than a few seconds– but when he drew back and I opened my eyes I was clutching the front of his shirt because I felt like my knees might give out at any moment. I took a breath and stepped back, leaning against the doorframe, eyes fixed on Seth, my fingers pressed over my still-tingling lips. "Merry Christmas, Miss King," he whispered. And then he disappeared into the kitchen with some excuse about eggnog.

While the others returned to inspecting their shiny new gadgets, Ephraim sidled over to me, looking as smug as a cat who'd feasted on a very fat canary. "So... I'm willing to bet you don't hate mistletoe anymore."

"You! Did you–"

"Consider it a Christmas gift," he said with a wink and then sauntered off looking far too pleased himself.

My brother I had to forgive eventually; Barbara Streisand, however, was another matter entirely. Though it was true that I never did mind mistletoe so much after that...

* * *

**A/N:** Because everyone should get to write a Christmas fic just once, right? Right?;P 

On a sidenote I was really surprised by the varied responses people have to the idea of real-world AU. It's interesting that some people get really excited about while others are sceptical. Anyway, I hope this was of amusement to someone in any case.


	3. Jealousy

**Jealousy**

To say that they're kissing would be an understatement. They're making out. There is simply no other way to describe it.

It's a fine spot for it, I'll give them that: settled in on a loveseat beneath the shade of a gazebo with a view of the turquoise ocean. One of Eirika's hands clasps Innes's neck, the other, his shoulder. Bile rises in my throat as I see that his hand is more adventurous as it slides up from her waist towards her right breast. She starts, her eyes snapping open for an instant, but she doesn't reproach him or brush his hand away.

I might have been able to convince myself that what I feel is only brotherly protectiveness... if I didn't know how sweet her lips are. I should never have let Ephraim goad me into kissing her the Christmas before last.

I'm about to turn on my heel and leave them to... whatever... but my foot scuffs the wooden boardwalk and they break apart, staring at me.

"Seth?" Eirika squeaks. Her face turns scarlet in an instant. Her paramour, however, looks haughty and slightly smug.

"Ephraim asked me to inform you that we'll be having dinner in a few minutes." I turn and leave before either can say a word. I hear him chuckle and say something in a consoling tone. My stomach churns and I clench my jaw and keep walking away. It shouldn't matter to me what Eirika does; she's far too young and besides that she's the daughter of my employer. It would hardly be appropriate considering my position within Renais Enterprises. And if I lose that, I lose everything.

I take deep breaths of sultry tropical air as I make my way back to the villa where we're staying. It's the twins' first spring break since beginning college and they wanted to make it a real vacation so renting a small island in the Bahamas was deemed suitable. The cost of one week's vacation for the six of us on this seven acre island is equal to most of what I earn in a year.

The villa has eight bedrooms, each with a private bathroom (including Jacuzzi and bath for two), about equal in size to my apartment back home in New York. There's an indoor and an outdoor pool, tennis court, gym, bar, billiard room, and, naturally, a private chef. I'm here at the request of their father who wanted to me to "keep an eye on them." I can't imagine why...

Ephraim is waiting for me when I walk up the path and enter the villa's common room. "Did you find them?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"They'll be coming to dinner shortly," I reply.

Ephraim crosses his arms and glowers."What were they doing?" I say nothing at all but something in my demeanour must give it away for he grimaces. "I'll have to keep him occupied tomorrow," Ephraim grumbles. "And Cormag too for that matter." Tana has invited her beau as well, a young Air Force pilot on leave to study engineering at Columbia where Ephraim and Tana are both students. "No one is going to get laid on this vacation," he grumbles and then stalks off towards the kitchen. I still haven't been able to discern which of the two men he dislikes more.

Tana is cheerful at dinner and little by little Cormag begins to settle in. Innes and Ephraim argue over politics. Eirika, though, is unusually quiet and stares fixedly at her plate. I'm sure the meal is excellent, but I hardly taste it. All I see again and again is Innes's lips meeting hers, his hands caressing her body.

While the boys retire to the billiard room and compete to see who has the longest pool cue, Eirika and Tana decide to walk along the beach and watch the sunset instead.

"Seth," Eirika says, stopping me before I can slip away.

"Yes, Miss Eirika?"

"I'm sorry about before. Innes and I just–"

"You're nineteen," I cut in. It rankles me to hear her speak his name. "What you choose to do with your boyfriend and where you choose to do it is none of my concern." I can hardly stand the stricken look on her face and I turn and leave.

I go to the gym and try to sweat out my frustration. I take a shower– a cold one– and turn in early. But as I lie in the king-sized bed and listen to the lull of the waves drifting in through the window, all I see is Eirika. When I close my eyes, I'm the one who holds her in my embrace, who presses my body against hers and hears her whispers, her moans.

In the movie that plays in my mind, I taste more than just her lips.

**ooo**

Through long habit I'm up and dressed in shorts and a tank top before dawn, ready to go for a morning run. The scent of the sea is a welcome change from the usual stench of exhaust and garbage that greets me most days when I step outside into the bustle of the city. I'm stretching out on the villa's veranda and just about ready to go when I hear the doors behind me slide open.

"Good morning," Eirika greets me. She's dressed in shorts, a T-shirt, and sneakers. Her hair is tied in a pony tail poking out of the back of a ball cap. She looks adorable.

"You're up early."

She shrugs. "I've had early classes all semester so I couldn't shake the habit I guess. Could you use a running partner?"

"I normally run several miles a day..."

She sniffs and crosses her arms in the way she always has when she's at her most stubborn. "Just because I do most of my running in a gym doesn't mean I can't keep up."

What else can I do but nod my assent?

Side by side, we begin to jog along the beach while the sun rises out of the ocean in a brilliant canvas of pinks and oranges like on all the postcards of this place. The loose sand makes for slippery footing compared to what we're both used to. It would be easier if the tide were retreating so we could run on the packed, wet sand, but it's coming in and Eirika delights in running at the very edge where the waves race up and nip at her sneakers.

She's in good shape and keeps pace with apparent ease though, when I glance at her, I can see the morning light catch on glistening beads of sweat that trickle down her neck.

After a while we pause, leaning against a rocky outcrop on a rougher section of the shore and watch the sun sliding higher. The scattered clouds that hover on the horizon are awash with colour against the lightening sky. "I hardly ever see a real sunrise back home. It's so beautiful," Eirika murmurs.

"Hmm."

"Is your room all right? You have everything you need?"

"Yes. Of course."

"So you're comfortable?" I'm puzzled by her questions and by the way she's biting her lip, her brow creased.

"Everything's fine," I reply.

"It's just..." She turns to glance over her shoulder at me. The dusky morning gives her skin a glow like burnished gold. "You've been so quiet, Seth. More than usual I mean."

"I'm sorry." I can hardly tell her what's really on my mind, how I want to brush a stray lock of hair away from her eyes just to be able to touch her skin.

"I–" She sighs and her eyes are fixed on the bursting colour of the horizon. "I know that you're not really on vacation– that dad asked you to come and keep us out of trouble."

"He was... worried."

"What?" she says, smirking now as she gives me a sideways glance. "He thought we'd be having a week of drinking and debauchery? Is that it?"

I can barely suppress a smile myself. "Something of the sort, I imagine."

"What's he paying you? I'll double it."

I straighten and, with a raised eyebrow, "I'm afraid you can't afford me, Miss King. At least not until you've come into your trust fund."

She considers this a moment. "So when I turn twenty-one," she says, quirking an eyebrow, "you're all mine?"

All at once I feel like a deer in the headlights and something must show on my face because she starts to laugh. "I'm joking!" she says and squeezes my arm. "You don't need to worry, though," she adds, looking out again towards the morning light breaking over the sea. "I'll be good. I think Innes is getting a little ahead of himself anyway. He needs to slow down. Actually, the way you were glowering at him yesterday cooled him off some." She turns to glance at me, smiling. "Could you do that some more?"

"Gladly."

She smiles at me– charming, delightful, beautiful: everything an heiress should be, beloved of photographers and society columnists. But the smile she gives me is different from the one captured in their photographs.

"I miss home, you know," she says after a moment's silence. "Dad and Ephraim and you."

"We'll still be here when you finish college."

"Even you? You won't go running off to some other company?" Her tone is light, but her frown, slight though it might be, betrays her.

"Renais Enterprises is my home. Where else would I go?"

The happiness on her face is more beautiful to me than the sun's dazzling pallette on the eastern sky.

She straightens and stretches. "I guess we should head back. Innes'll probably be jealous when he notices we're gone."

_Good._

She's grinning and winks at me. We run side by side again in the morning sunlight. And though I know she may never be mine to hold, at least she'll always be mine to protect.


	4. Rumour

**Rumour**

"He was an amazing orator and diplomat– you wouldn't believe what he could do with a speech; it's really incredible. I sometimes wish I had that sort of charisma. I– Eirika?"

I look up from my cup of coffee. "Hmm? I'm sorry, Saleh, were you saying something?" It was true that I was only half listening to him. It's not that I find him dull– his enthusiasm for history is endearing– but... it reminds me of someone... Seth never had the chance to go to college but he devours books on military history.

Café Argentium, Saleh's favourite meeting place, is quiet this evening. Some nights the waiters are left scurrying from table to table and the buzz of the patrons' chatter can become overwhelming. I prefer it this way; so does Saleh. "I was just going on about my thesis again. I don't mean to bore you with it."

There's no accusation in his voice, no resentment. He's patient and gentle– and this too reminds me of someone else and I feel a twinge of guilt as Seth's face, that quiet smile of his, flashes before my mind's eye. I smile at Saleh and reach out to squeeze his hand. "I'm sorry. I'm just distracted tonight. I... had some news from home."

He tilts his head and peers at me, looking concerned. "Bad news?"

"No. Not exactly. Just–"

"Refill?" the waiter asks as he passes the table.

"Please," I reply, anxious for an escape from this conversation. He pours the coffee and I reach for cream and then two sugars. As I stir the mix until it pales from murky brown to a pleasant mocha tinge, the ring of my spoon against porcelain seems painfully loud. "Did you get that book you were trying to find?" I ask before the topic shifts back to my home.

"I did! And it's just what I needed. As it turns out..."

I let him go on, happy for the easy task of listening. Talking seems difficult tonight. His face lights up as he talks about these people who died a thousand years before he was born. Sometimes I wonder if they aren't more real to him than I am.

It's getting late and when I finish my coffee he walks me to my apartment after which he'll have to get a bus or cab out of Allston and back across the Charles River to his own apartment closer to his corner of Harvard's campus. I could have chosen to attend Columbia University like Ephraim, but I wanted to be on my own for a few years. I still wonder sometimes if that was the right decision.

At the entrance to my apartment complex, Saleh brushes a kiss over my lips and then wishes me goodnight. His kisses are always more polite than passionate. Is it terrible that I'm grateful for that? He's five years older than me, and I think he wants to be courteous and not push me further than I want to go. He's a gentleman. So why is it all the things I appreciate about him only serve to remind of the one person I can never have?

I unlock my door, pull off my shoes, and collapse onto my couch. It takes me a good ten minutes to get up the courage to dig my cell phone out of my purse. I glance again at the text message from Tana. "sth ngagd pcm." The lack of vowels wasn't unusual coming from Tana, but I couldn't help but hope that I'd read it wrong. Could it really say "Seth engaged please call me"?

I hit the speed dial for Tana's number. She picks up after the first ring. "Tana," I say and I hate that my voice is trembling, "what was that message about?"

"There's a rumour going around–"

"A– a rumour? Tana," I groan.

"No wait, listen. It's comes direct from home."

I sniff. She followed Ephraim to Columbia and I can't help but be jealous of how she gets to see _my_ family and _my_ friends every week while I just see them on holidays. "How direct?"

"I heard it from Syrene."

"When did she see Seth?" I asked, puzzled.

"Well... actually she heard it from Vanessa who was talking to..."

She hesitates and I stifle another groan. "Forde?"

"Well yes."

Forde was really a nice guy and he'd been working security for Renais Enterprises Inc. nearly as long as Kyle and Seth had, but sometimes the things that came out of his mouth... "And where did Forde get his information from precisely? A fortune teller in the Bronx?"

"He saw them!"

"Who?"

"Seth and Natasha!"

I freeze. My stomach is roiling in a particularly unpleasant way. "Hold on a second, Tana," I say and I get up and put some water on to boil for a herbal tea. My hand is shaking as I reach for a cup and I feel like a fool. "All right, start from the top," I say, putting on my calm, professional businesswoman persona. I imagine it as a real suit and close my eyes for a moment to see myself pulling on a navy-blue blazer and standing in front of the board members at the office. "Forde saw Seth and Natasha? Where? When? And is he sure it was them? They broke up ages go." She remembered it had been just before she'd left for college.

"He's sure. They were having dinner at Le Chevalier the same night Forde was there with some girl he's seeing."

"I see." I take a deep breath. "So what happened? Did Forde see a ring or..." I was about to ask if Seth had proposed there at the restaurant but it seemed so unlike him; he had always valued his privacy and hardly seemed one to broach a delicate subject like marriage in a public place.

"No not exactly. But when he asked Seth about it the next day he said something about an engagement and then hurried off."

I'm dumbfounded. I can't gather my wits enough to say anything at all. Instead, I reach for the kettle; I hadn't noticed that it had begun to whistle.

"I'm sorry," Tana says gently. "I just wanted to make sure you knew before you came home for the holidays." Tomorrow I'll be heading home for Thanksgiving weekend. I suppose... that it's better this way. Less of a shock... I guess.

"Thanks," I manage. I pour the herbal tea and leave it on the counter to steep. I tell Tana that I'm tired. She says goodnight and a minute later I get a "hug" via text message. I know she understands.

The tea is steeped, but I still need to let the news sink in. Suddenly the prospect of going home seems less cheerful than it should.

**ooo**

November seems more drab than usual this year– but maybe that's just my mood infecting my perception of the weather. Ephraim meets me at the airport and the first thing out of his mouth is, "You look glum."

"I'm fine."

"No you're not. Give me three guesses to figure out what's wrong. If I win you have to promise to smile."

"And if you lose?"

"I'll treat you to dinner at an establishment of your choice."

"All right."

He makes a show of giving the matter great thought as we head to the car and wait for our chauffeur to collect our baggage. "Fail your midterms?" he asks.

I snort at this; he _knows_ I get excellent grades. "No."

"Went on a bender and dad found out and wrote you out of the will?"

"Ephraim!"

"Okay third's a charm. Let's see..." He's putting on an act to cheer me up and I love him for it, my dear, wonderful brother. "Break up with your boyfriend?" He says this last very earnestly; he thinks that's what wrong. He must not know about Seth then. If he did he would have realized...

"I'm afraid you owe me dinner."

"Really?" He looks genuinely surprised. "You're still going out with that history professor?"

"Saleh's a doctoral candidate, not a full-fledged professor."

He shrugs. "So what's bothering you then?"

"Nothing. Just tired, I guess. And the weather..."

"Eirika–"

"Come on," I say and I get into the car. He drops it. He knows better than to press me for information. We may be twins, but I got the lion's share of stubbornness.

**ooo**

The weekend has been better than I thought. It's wonderful to see everyone again, to be home– home! Holidays have always been a grand affair in our household. Our family itself is small– just dad, Ephraim, and me– but so many of the people who work for the company have become like family that we have them over, especially our security guys who all seem to be without family themselves. Forde and Kyle spent so much time as Ephraim's bodyguards when he was younger that I know he thinks of them more as friends than employees. And I know for a fact that Forde has no family aside from his younger brother. And then there's Seth. He's been on his own since his father was shot eight years ago. I wonder if he's realized that I've been ducking him all weekend...

Replete with turkey, dressing, yams, and pumpkin pie, I'm curled up on couch listening to bits and pieces of conversations, which float around the room like wisps of smoke, and just about to fall into a doze when I'm started into wakefulness. "It's good to see you again, Miss King."

"Eirika," I correct automatically. "We're not at the office, Seth– we're home."

"It's good to see you, Eirika," he says and smiles and for a minute I forget that anything's changed. Even now he's wearing a suit– a handsome charcoal suit, but it's far more formal than necessary. At least he's refrained from wearing a tie. I can't help but notice that he's left the top button of his collar undone. I want to snag him by the collar and muss up his hair... among other things.

He sits down in the wingback chair next to the couch. He has a drink in his left hand (scotch I think) and I can hear the clink of the ice cubes in his glass. The sun has come out of hiding for a moment and mellow autumn light pours in from the bay window and gives his russet hair a fiery hue. A feeling wells up in my chest, longing for this– the perfection of this moment, the easy, familiar silence as we sit here together.

But all at once, my eyes fall to his hand, his ring finger, still bare, but not for long– and my contentment washes away like sunlight swallowed up by clouds. "I guess I should congratulate you," I say, not meeting his eyes. Better to have it out of the way. I'm surprised, come to think of it, that he hasn't invited Natasha.

His brow crinkles. "For what?"

I shake my head. "I'm sorry. I know it's not official yet."

"What's not official?"

"Your engagement."

He nearly chokes on his scotch. He spends several moments coughing before he sputters "My– My– Eirika, what..." I have to stifle a laugh; I don't believe I've ever seen Seth so flabbergasted. He's always so cool and collected and it can't be an act. "What are you talking about?" he asks in a low tone; several people are glancing our way.

I feel very warm suddenly and I think I must be starting to blush. "There's a rumour that you and Natasha..."

"Who in the world told you that?"

"Forde." He's frowning now, his jaw clenched, shoulders hunched. "He saw the two of you at dinner. He said the next day you mentioned something about your engagement."

Seth groans and holds his head in his hands for an instant before straightening. "I said we'd had dinner and then I told him I had to leave because I had a 'pressing engagement.'"

Relief wells up in me like a spring and I find myself giggling. I'd fretted so much and all over this! "I always told you you'd get into trouble with the way you talk sometimes, Seth. You _could_ have said you had an urgent appointment."

"Next time I'll just say 'I gotta get goin'." His imitation of a Brooklyn accent has me laughing again; it's so terribly incongruous to hear it coming from Seth.

"So... You're not engaged then?" I had meant to ask jokingly, but it comes out with a kind of earnestness that has me flushing again.

"No," he whispers. "I'm not."

I don't know why I feel so happy to hear it; it doesn't make him any more mine. "So... why were you having dinner with Natasha?"

He bristles and I realize I've gone too far, stepped into that private realm that he refuses to share. "What I do and don't do with my ex, is _my_ concern. And Forde should mind his own affairs."

I can feel myself colouring again and there's simply nothing I can do about it. I feel more comfortable sometimes in the halls of our company, surrounded by Armani-garbed businessmen and lawyers; I know how to manage their sort. But Seth... "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry." Even so, he called her his "ex" so he must not be seeing her again... It's stupid, it's silly, but it makes me happy. I reach out and squeeze his hand. "I'll help you with damage control."

"Thank you." He looks away for a moment and then, "Eirika, I..."

"Yes?"

He shakes his head. "It's nothing. Happy Thanksgiving," he says and, finishing the last of his scotch, he gets up and disappears into the next room.

I take a deep breath and get ready to launch myself back into the social world so that I can casually mention that Seth isn't engaged. It'll come out as a charming story, the joke on poor Forde of course, and none of them will guess how much angst it caused me. But I'd rather they know the truth. And though he may not be mine, at least I don't have to share him just yet.


	5. Embrace

**Embrace**

"Please don't die. Please don't die."

I whisper it again and again like a chant, as if my pleas could ward off death. He says he'll be all right, that the bullet passed through, that it's only a flesh wound, but he's lost so much blood and, as I lie here in his embrace, I'm afraid to go to sleep. Right now I can hear his shallow breathing and, cradled against his chest, I can feel the pulse of his heartbeat. But I'm afraid of waking up next to a corpse.

The attack was so sudden. Ephraim is still missing. There's no signal from his cell phone. And my father... I think dad is...

I cling to Seth: Tonight he's my whole world. I press my lips against his skin and try to whisper life into him.

Eventually, sleep falls over me like a shroud.


	6. Sunset

**Sunset**

The daylight is just about gone now and shadows of the tombstones stretch out in slanting, oblong rows. It was sunny today and beautiful, but I couldn't take any joy in it. I thought I was over the worst of it– it's been weeks– but now that we've finally been able to have a proper service... In the fading light I stare at the stone that bears my parents' names.

It was a relief when everyone finally left, even though it was only a small party that had followed from the service to the cemetery. I care about them all, but their good wishes and sympathy won't bring back my father, won't return my life as it was.

Ephraim left to go to the car a few minutes ago. I think he finds this place oppressive. I wanted to stare at their names a little while longer and try to let it sink it. I think the reality of our dad's death has hit him more heavily; he's inherited the position of director of Renais Enterprises and he's been feeling the weight of that responsibility. We have equal shares in the business, but it was long ago agreed that he would take the helm of the company when my father retired– we never imagined any other circumstances in which Ephraim would take over. I know he'd expected to have dad's counsel and experience to guide him for much longer. As for me, after I finished college I began working in the branch of the company that oversees Renais Enterprises' charitable activities and I'll continue on there now. Dad believed strongly in returning something to the community and I've always enjoyed being a part of that work.

As the sun sets, it's growing difficult to read the inscription any longer, so I finally tear my eyes away.

"Seth?" I don't see him anywhere.

I asked him to ride here with us. Even after everything, after it's all over, I've been skittish, jumping at the slightest sound, glancing over my shoulder. I keep dreaming about what happened. The crack of gunfire and the red splashes of blood seem more vivid in my nightmares. The only time I feel safe anymore is when I'm with Ephraim or Seth.

I take a deep breath. There's no need to worry; I know that. Slowly, deliberately, I let my eyes sweep the cemetery in the dusky remains of daylight. Is still don't see him, but all at once I realize where he's gone. His father, too, is buried here.

I attended the funeral and though it was more than a decade ago I still have a rough idea of where the grave is. I remember how sad Seth looked that day, but even at age twelve I had no illusions that there was anything I could do to make him happy. So I sat quietly through the service and the burial and I told him I was sorry and hugged him once and then left with Ephraim and my dad.

I only walk a little ways in that direction before I catch sight of Seth. He's crouching in front of the grave. My vision had been blocked by a tall monument when I'd looked earlier. He must have heard my footsteps for he stands and looks in my direction as I approach and come to stand next to him. I squeeze his arm, though what I really want is to hug him as I did when I was a child. We've both lost our fathers suddenly and violently; I know he understands in a way none of the others do.

For a moment I look at his father's gravestone, though it's too dark now for me to properly make out the inscription. "Does it get any easier?" I whisper.

"It becomes... less overwhelming. With time." He pauses for a moment and I'm puzzled when he does speak. "I'm sorry. It should never have happened. I should've–"

"Stop, Seth, please. You protected me– you saved my life! And I don't what I'd do if we'd lost dad _and_ you." I'd managed to hold myself together during the service, but now I can feel my facade crumbling and I feel like a child... who just wants to see her dad again.

When Seth puts his arms around me, I can't hold back the tears any longer.

I miss my dad _so_ much... And I love Seth so much and I want to tell him but I'm terrified of losing him too, and it just seems too terrible to feel so many things all at once, so overpowering and all I can seem to do is sob into Seth's chest while he holds me and strokes my hair. And I can't talk to Ephraim about this because when I do he's always on the verge of tears and it hurts to see my tall, strong, wonderful brother cry, to hear his voice quaver.

By the time I've worn myself out, the dusk has faded into night. As Seth places a kiss on my brow, we're only silhouettes in the darkness.


	7. Milk

**Milk**

"I'm going out to get milk," I hear Seth call from the kitchen. Puzzled, I head through my kitchen (which Seth says is as large as half his apartment) and then into the vestibule where he's already pulling on his jacket. He's dressed in a pair of jeans and a plain white shirt– casual and not at all fancy, but I love it. I love seeing him at his ease and in his element, being with him when he's relaxed, catching all the smiles he keeps hidden away when he's at work.

"Whatever for?" I ask.

"For the cream sauce I want to make for the linguini. It takes two cups and there won't be enough left for coffee in the morning." He cooks. He doesn't need to– I have my own cook on staff– but Seth seems rather proud of his culinary skills and I think he likes showing off for me.

"I can call downstairs and have some brought up," I tell him.

He stares at me as if I were from another planet. "You... don't go to the convenience store when you're out of milk?"

"I– well... no. Seth?"

"Hmm?"

"You're looking at me like I have two heads."

"I'm sorry," he says, chuckling and reaching out to brush his fingers over my cheek. Even such a fleeting touch sends shivers through me. "It's difficult for me to imagine not needing to run out to the convenience store."

His jacket is still on and he hasn't come back into the kitchen yet. "I pay people to do things like that, remember?" I say snagging his hand and giving him a tug, but his feet remained planted on the vestibule floor. "Come on. I'll call down and you can start making your cream sauce... Or we can do something more_interesting..._" I put my arms around his waist and lean into him. I have to stand on my toes to whisper in his ear. "You're wearing clothes. I disapprove."

He catches my hands before they quite make it to his belt buckle. "After dinner," he says, bringing my hands to his lips. How he can be so infuriating is beyond me. I freeze as his lips brush my ear. "You need to learn _patience_." His voice, low and rumbling in his chest like a purr, makes me tremble. It's not fair that he can do this to me. "For now, come with me to the store. It'll be an adventure for you."

"But..." He looks like a schoolboy when he smiles like that, though why he's so delighted by something so silly I can't imagine. "Oh all right. You win. You're... sure it's safe, though?"

He raises an eyebrow. "In your neighbourhood?"

I shouldn't be this nervous, I know, but ever since dad was killed I've been skittish. "It's already dark..."

"It's fine," he assures me. "And I'll be with you." He says it gently, with that small smile of his I've always loved. He said the same thing the night he'd been shot. He was hurt, bleeding, and I was so afraid I would lose him, but even then he wanted to protect me. It's been months now, and I still think of it all the time. When we make love, the scar on his shoulder reminds me that I almost lost him. He was my whole world that night and I'm just thankful to have him as part of my life now.

I pull on my jacket and follow him out the door, hand held in his. The elevator ride from my penthouse apartment to the ground floor is torturous, being so close to him, all alone... I want to do all manner of indecent things _to_ and _with_ him.

The store is just a few block from my building and, as we walk, the streets are bustling and bright– but Manhattan is always bright. When I wake in the night and look out the window, the streets below are brilliant and the horizon seems to glow. The only time I ever see the stars is when I venture out to our cottage in Manchester.

When we arrive there, it's more of a small, trendy shop than the sort convenience stores that populate Seth's neighbourhood, the cramped little 7-Elevens with bleary neon lights. This place, on the ground floor of another apartment building, has nice, well spaced rows, and cheerful lighting. The store clerk looks pleased to see us and doesn't stare suspiciously as if expecting us to draw weapons and demand that he empty the register.

Together, we make out way to the refrigerators at the back of the store. I slide open the door and pull out a carton of milk. "Let me," I say as I see him pulling out his wallet.

His brow is crinkled as he looks up at me. "I thought we discussed this. When we go to dinner at one of your places you pay; when we go to one of mine, I do. The same should apply when I'm cooking a meal for you."

I sigh. I just want to save him the trouble, to do something for him. Money is... next to nothing for me so why shouldn't I pick up the tab? He holds out his hand. "Oh all right." I surrender the carton of milk to him.

"It's true that I couldn't afford your lifestyle, Eirika, but I promise you that buying a quart of milk won't impact on my finances."

I sniff. "You're just afraid I'll turn you into kept man, aren't you?"

"I suppose," he says, his lips quirked ever so slightly, "that I could think of worse fates." He's smiling as we head to the cash and he pulls out a trio of dollar bills. I can't remember the last time I paid for something in cash– no wait, I do remember. The night he was shot I bought first aid supplies at a pharmacy...

While he's getting his change from the cashier I take the opportunity to stare at him, to note the line of his jaw, the way his russet hair comes just short of falling into his eyes. When he sleeps, the lines of his face are more relaxed, his guardedness vanishes and he looks vulnerable almost.

The grocery store has gone green and the cashier gives Seth the milk in a paper bag that proudly announces itself as made of non-bleached post-consumer recycled paper. He tucks it under his arm and we head back to my apartment. I take his arm as we walk, chatting about the movie we saw yesterday and about our friends from work. Joy bubbles up in me like a spring. All the years of awkwardness and hesitation are replaced by this sense of ease, of trust and comfort that I've never felt with anyone save maybe my brother and Tana.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Seth asks as we're taking our jackets off in my vestibule. "We're both still in one piece."

Halfway out of the vestibule I stop in my tracks and turn slowly to look at him. "Did you do all this for me?" I ask quietly, a smile tugging at my lips.

"Well... we did need milk."

What else can I do but throw my arms around him? "I'll be all right," I whisper into his neck. "I just need time."_And you._ How do you tell someone that they give you strength, that they help you remember how to be brave? All I know how to tell him is that I love him.

**ooo**

Seth goes about making dinner while I set the small breakfast table. The dining room has a table that seats ten but the room seems rather cavernous when it's only the two us. He's left his overnight bag in the vestibule so I set it down in the corner of my room where he can get at it easily when he needs it. He always sleeps over on weekends. During the week it's more complicated as he has to bring a spare suit with him to work and then to my apartment for the next day. It's odd to see it hanging up in my closet, a curiosity of sorts... Seth's suit... I feel almost as if his suits are a part of him, a layer that he strips off at the end of the day.

He's still nervous about staying over during the week because he wakes up so much earlier than I do so that he can go for a morning run. But it doesn't wake me and I miss him when he's not here, when he has to leave in the night. And it makes me nervous that he should have to make his way back home so late. I know he can take care of himself, but my fears are more real to me now, made tangible by the violence I've experienced in my own life.

"Eirika! It's ready!"

I come when he calls and we sit down together for a lovely meal. He does cook wonderfully and I enjoy every bite, though I'm constantly distracted by his brown eyes, by the way his foot sometimes nudges mine under the table when he crosses or uncrosses his legs, by the warmth of his hand when he reaches out to caress mine. I'm ready to swear that he's teasing me. I need to learn patience, do I?

When dinner is done we clear the table and as he's putting the last of the dishes in the dishwasher I seize the opportunity to come up behind him and wind my arms around his waist. He nearly drops a plate when my fingers sneak into his clothes and caress his skin.

"Seth?" I whisper against his ear.

"Hmm?" With great care and deliberateness he sets the plate into the dishwasher and starts it running.

"Pasta's what people eat before running a marathon. Should I read anything into that?"

When he turns there's a sly smile on his face. "Maybe."

I feel like I could melt when he _finally_ kisses me, long and deep until we're both breathless. His lips, his mouth, his skin are warm and I want to be wrapped in that warmth. I want to drown in his scent, in the taste of him, in that perfect closeness I feel when I'm in his arms. My blood races with my desire for him, but more than that, my heart aches with how much I love him.

I take his hand and lead him towards my room.

**ooo**

Eirika takes my hand in hers and draws me towards her bedroom. I hesitate as I think of the ring in my jacket pocket.

Is three weeks too soon? Perhaps a month would sound less rushed? I know good sense dictates that I should wait, bide my time, but I already know for certain. I would bend, I would sacrifice for her. I will compromise. Because I want her more than anything in this world and it's as if all these years have been a long, drawn-out courtship. But whatever the cost, I know I want to spend my life by her side.

"Seth?" she asks, glancing at me.

"No, it's nothing. It can wait."

I squeeze her hand and follow her to the delights the evening has in store for us.

**THE END**

* * *

**A/N:** I wanted to say thank you to all those who've left reviews as I've been posting ths fic. I had a lot of fun writing these short pieces and it was a wonderful surprise to see them get such a good response. And it does put a smile on my face to know someone had fun reading them. As of yet I don't know if I'll ever write the longer AU story. I don't really know if it's even necessary after this. But in any case, thank you! 


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